Secrets of Droon: Even Specialer Edition
by Taidine
Summary: Yes, it's a Secrets of Droon fic. Eight years after the staircase stopped working, our heroes return to Droon to foil Sparr's latest evil plot. Magic and mayhem ensue. Witness flying bathtubs, Droon's first democracy, and Julie singing rap.
1. The Hidden Staircase Again

Secrets of Droon

**Secrets of Droon**

**Even Specialer Edition**

**Insert Title Here**

Or

**The Data Loss Banana of DOOM!**

**Introduction**

I do not own Droon. I do not want to. I think Tony Abbott does a fantastic job with it. Geoffrey I did make up, but I take no pride in it, and Mr. Abbott is welcomed to him or any other plot devices I used while writing this. Let that serve as written permission to him.

I do not know if anyone else who reads The Secrets of Droon will like this fanfic, since Droon appeals to a younger audience and the Even Specialer Edition is a more mature brand of humor (not inappropriate – just more ironic). You can of course read it without having read the Droon series, although it is not nearly as funny.

For those few of you who are still tempted, here is how this story came to be.

Me and my sister were sitting around one day reading a Secrets of Droon book, The Mask of Maliban if memory serves. The line I was reading went something like this…

"And out of thin air, Sparr pulled a giant ball of fire!"

Except I was reading it slowly and suspensefully (that is not recognized by my word processor as a word, but I like it). So I got to, "Sparr pulled…"

My sister interjected, at this point, "A microphone!"

I don't remember who came up with the next line, but one of us went on to say, "Sparr sang… Karaoke! Eric… died."

Thus, Secrets of Droon: Even Specialer Edition was born.

It was going to be a spoof. But in the end, turns out it isn't. Droon pretty much spoofs itself, and you can't parody humor. It is, however, a little more over the top, and a bit more macabre at times, and occasionally pokes fun at the little inconsistencies that inevitably crop up in a series of children's books…

The premise is this - After The Hawk Bandits of Tarkoom, the last one before Eric gets powers because powers complicate things, the connection between Droon and the Upper World stops working for the kids. Eight years pass. Then…

Well, you'll see what happens then.

Taidine

PS – This is an old story; my style has since then, I hope, become more sophisticated. Oh well, it's still a good read.

**Chapter 1**

The Hidden Staircase - Again

Eric Hinkle heard banging in the basement. Resigned to having to pull his father away from the power tools yet again, he fixed his tie, wondering if the horizontal stripes really matched his checked shirt, and headed down the steps.

A box was moving. Of its own accord, it seemed, creeping morbidly across the floor and leaving a wide track in the thick dust. Eric's eyes grew wide behind his fishbowl glasses. The box… was coming… straight… for him!

With a strangled yelp of surprise, Eric tried to run up the stairs backwards but only succeeded in falling, landing sprawled on the floor, and getting dust all over his plaid, collared shirt.

A head poked out from behind the box. "Yo," it said.

"Neal?" Eric gasped in astonishment.

Neal gave him the peace sign. "The one and only."

"But what are you doing here in my basement? I haven't seen you since I was accepted to Harvard!"

"I am here," said Neal, "Because I had a dream."

"Great. Now you're the emo version of Martin Luther King, jr."

"A dream about Droon!"

Well, that got Eric's attention. "Droon! We haven't been there in nearly a decade! I was beginning to think I had made it up." His eyes shone with the memories.

Eight years ago, Eric and his friends had been cleaning out the basement when they stumbled across the hidden entrance to a magical world called Droon. With the help of a princess named Keeah, the wizard Galen Longbeard, and a series of other memorable characters, they had experienced many exciting adventures in defeating the evils that plagued Droon and discovered the values of love, loyalty, and friendship in each heartwarming and moral-laden conclusion.

Keeah had enchanted a soccer ball to float and carry messages when she needed them in Droon, but Neal had lost it at a beachside soccer tournament years ago. The other way they knew to return was when they dreamed about Droon. But none of them had had such a dream in ages - until now.

"Come to think of it," said Eric, breaking the silence into which dust had begun to settle, "I did have an odd dream last night."

"See?" Neal replied, "It's time to go back. First, we have to clear all the boxes away from this door."

The door was the entrance to Droon. It opened onto a closet under the stairs. When the light switch turned off, if the magic was working, a rainbow staircase would appear - _whoosh! - _and lead the kids (er, teens) to Droon.

Fifteen minutes later, enough boxes had been moved that the door was revealed in all its sorry glory. One hinge looked about ready to come off, and the boards were warped by the constant changes in temperature. Eric looked disappointed. Neal hauled it open, smiled, jumped in, and flicked on the light.

His gelled blond hair brushed the dust and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Light glinted off his four earrings as he looked around. "It looks a lot… smaller," he said, "but you'll fit. Come on, Eric!"

Dubiously, Eric stepped in and flicked off the light.

There was no whoosh. A rainbow staircase failed to appear.

Eric shrugged in the darkness and flipped the switch again. Light flooded the closet, illuminating two dejected adolescents. "Guess it doesn't work," Eric muttered.

"I must have been wrong," Neal added.

Eric stepped out, brushing dust from his plaid shirtfront. "Yeah, must have been mist- wait a minute!" He suddenly looked excited again. "What are we missing? What else was present every time we traveled to Droon? Or rather, who?"

Neal snapped his fingers. "Julie!"

Because the current author is so accommodating, it was right at that moment that the doorbell rang.

With much pounding and racket, the boys dashed up the stairs and yanked open the door.

Eric saw what stood on his doorstep and let out a bloodcurdling scream!

Neal elbowed him. Julie raised her eyebrow. "I have had a…"

"Dream about Droon?" Neal interrupted impatiently.

"…revelation. Pink is not my color."

Eric finally recovered a modicum of breath. "Pink… hair!" he gasped out.

Julie, standing in the doorframe, raked her fingers through her shoulder-length bob cut which was, indeed, now a shocking pink. "Geez, calm down Eric. You didn't freak like this when Neal got his tattoo, or-"

"Neal has a _tattoo?_" Eric sounded nearly strangled with indignation. Neal looked sheepishly down at his Nikes.

"Look, just forget it. Let me in. You said something about Droon?" Julie shouldered past the shell-shocked pair.

Neal, having made a more rapid recovery, whirled smartly to follow Julie down to the basement. He made it two steps before tripping over an untied shoelace and falling on his face.

Eric walked by, mouth hanging open, staring at Julie's hair.

Neal got up. "Trying to catch flies there, Eric? They don't taste very good. Maybe we can get some potato chips instead." He wore a pathetically hopeful expression that Eric and Julie utterly failed to notice. "How about chocolate chips? Your mother still keeps baking supplies in the cabinet over the stove, right?"

Eric 'accidentally' elbowed him in the ribs, and he remained miraculously silent until they reached the basement.

Julie pulled the door open. It creaked alarmingly but failed to collapse under her hands, which reassured them all enough to step in.

_It's crowded!_ Eric couldn't remember it being quite this small. But the three packed themselves in and Neal reached out to flick off the light.

"Ow! That was my eye, you dolt. The light switch is over there!" Julie exclaimed. Neal mumbled an apology, turned, and flicked off the light switch - gently.

Darkness closed in. Eric shifted, the bottom of his loafer meeting something soft and provoking a small squeak from Neal. The dramatic music rose to a climax…

"Neal, turn the iPod off!"

"Oops."

The dramatic music vanished.

_Whoosh! _A sparkling staircase poured out beneath them like a crenellated rainbow.

Julie opened her mouth. "I-"

Eric slapped a hand over it. "Please don't tell us how much you love that sound."

Neal peered over the railing, squinting. As a matter of honor, he would never wear glasses, but they would have done him a world of good about now. "Eric, Julie, I see tan blotches. We must be above the Panjabarre Hills!"

Eric released Julie and looked down himself. "Those tan blotches are buildings, Neal. This is clearly Jaffa City."

Neal had the courtesy to look embarrassed for a second before dashing headlong down the stairs.

"Neal! You're going to… you'll… uh…" Eric began following at a more sedate pace. "Julie, tell Neal to go slow - ahh!"

Julie had just swept past, riding the banister like a slide at the playground.

Eric fixed his eyes firmly on his loafers. Being this high up had lost its appeal somewhere along the line. One step… two steps…

Several hundred steps later, ground was touched. The ground of Droon.

"Eric? Going to lie down and nap for a while or should we try to find someone we know?"

"We don't need to find them," Neal commented, "They find us."

Sure enough, plunging suddenly from the narrow street nearest to them came a tall woman with mussed golden hair topped by a slim, sparkling tiara. She studied the three newcomers, fingering the silver embroidery on her dark blue robe, and glanced at the fading rainbow of the staircase.

Recognition flashed in her emerald eyes. "Eric, Julie, Neal! It worked! It finally worked!"

"Keeah!" Shouted Eric joyfully.

"What worked?" Julie asked.

Neal sniffed the air, muttering something about fresh bread.

"Oh, I sent a message through the soccer ball for you to come," Keeah said, "Droon is entering dark and trouble times.

"Again?" Neal muttered.


	2. Doom in Droon

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Doom in Droon

Keeah glared at Neal.

Neal cowered. "Sorry, Princess."

"Queen," Keeah corrected absently.

"Queen?" Eric perked up. "Of Droon? Really?"

Keeah nodded sadly. "Yes, to my eternal regret. Only because I have no other choice have I shouldered this burden. My father, King Zello, fell off his pilka and is now paralyzed for life." Her azure eyes brimmed with tears. "And my mother has gone into early retirement to work in an animal rights group…" She sniffled delicately "…to protest the poaching of red tigers in the Bangledorn Forest. She's also working on higher protection laws for the habitats of white falcons, blue dragons, and black dolphins."

Eric nodded in sympathy and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder before thinking better of it. "I'm really very sorry to hear that," he said instead.

Keeah wiped away melodramatic tears. "Never mind that. You didn't come to listen to my troubles."

"We don't mind," said Julie, stoic but unconvincing. "After all, that's what friends are for."

Keeah waved her hand. "No, you must hear of the troubles of Droon," she replied, oblivious to Neal's groan. "Come. Let us go to Galen's tower, where I can tell you more."

Keeah swished her blue robes and glided off, beckoning the children to follow. Exchanging glances, the young adults followed.

They did not get far, however, before a familiar figure in a pointed hat came into view around a conveniently placed corner. "Galen," exclaimed Julie, and followed up with a rather redundant, "It's Galen Longbeard!"

"Galen Even Longer Beard now," said Keeah, "And being viewed for a promotion to Galen Trip-on-his-own-beard."

As he drew closer, it could be seen that Galen was muttering to himself under his breath. It could also be seen that a gawky, stumbling figure supporting a large, earthenware vessel on his head followed behind him.

"Who's that?" Neal blurted.

Keeah grimaced. "Goffrey, Galen's assistant. Max joined the WAU - Wizard's Assistants' Union - and quit on the grounds that Galen promoted servitude by asking to be called Master all the time. Actually, he started demanding to be called Lord High One about a year ago, I think that was really the last straw…"

Max the spider troll, a perky being with orange hair and a spider's body, had been with them on many adventures. It was sad news indeed to hear he was gone, whatever the reason.

"Galen," Goffrey was shouting, "You wanted me to bring you the scry bowl!" He listed a little, staggering under the heavy vessel. "I have it here! It's kind of heavy! What do you… oops."

The bowl had slipped from his tremulous grip. It tumbled to the ground - _thunk - _splitting into several large pieces and spilling a glistening liquid onto the grass.

"Nice," thought Neal. Not until Eric's elbow jabbed his middle did he realize he had voiced the sarcastic comment; fortunately, no one else showed any signs of having heard.

Julie, with a good heart under the spaghetti-strap tanktop and pink hair, had dashed over to help clean up. Eric and Neal followed, Neal rubbing his midriff, Eric massaging his elbow. Galen mumbled and tugged on his beard, prompting Keeah to walk over to him.

As Julie bent to pick up a shard of broken pottery, her eye was caught by the shimmering puddle of scrying liquid. She leaned closer; something floated in its depths.

"Holy cr-" she cried. The second word is censored in case children happen to get their hands on this, but I will tell you, it wasn't 'crow.'

"What? See your reflection?" Neal couldn't resist.

"No…"

Eric and Neal also went down on their knees beside the small puddle.

Deep in the murky pool, Eric could see something drifting upwards. It was black, far darker then the liquid it appeared in. It looked like a cylinder, a long, straight, rounded stick. Spikes sprang from one end, protecting within them a round black object like half a ball, or a domed pencil eraser.

"It's…" Julie murmured.

"It's…" Eric gasped.

"Monty Python's Flying Circus!" Neal put in automatically.

There was a distinct lack of laughter.

Then, like a pierced bubble, the vision was gone, replaced by the reflection of Keeah, who had come striding up. "What is it?"

"This British TV show…" Neal began, but so quietly he was quite drowned out by Eric's "I dunno. Some kind of black, spiky tower with a stargazing dome?"

"…parrots. But that's not important right now," Neal finished.

Galen, who had followed Keeah, looked quizzical. "Black towel, you say? Do I know you?"

"His hearing's going," Keeah whispered by way of explanation. Then, in louder tones: "He said, a black _tower._"

"Oh… sounds like Pludd…" Galen mused.

Keeah nodded, sinking into the depths of thought. "Yes, that could be. To find a tower of black spikes, as you describe, we should journey to Pludd!"

Neal moaned. "Every time! Every single time! We can't go to Droon without going somewhere spooky, dark, scary, dangerous, or life threatening, can we?"

"No," said Eric, unfazed, "When do we start?"

"Wait, wait, wait. Keeah's the Queen of Droon now! She can't just go plunging off on a wild adventure."

"Of course I can!" Keeah protested vehemently, "Jaffa City barely needs governing in the first place, you know."

Eric looked thoughtful. "Form a committee."

Neal protested. "A committee never gets anything done!"

"That's the point."

"Brilliant, Eric!" Keeah gushed, "I'll put Galen in charge of forming a committee. It will be Droon's first step towards Democracy."

"Okay, but I don't think we really have time. We never do anything sensible like packing, turning off our lights, or locking our doors before we leave – let alone start a democratic government," Neal stated.

Keeah apparently missed the sarcasm dripping from his flat tones like syrup from a plate of pancakes in the dishwasher, for she gave a sudden shrill whistle and, lo and behold, three pilkas came galloping out of the distance.

Three?

"Keeah, there are four of us."

"Five, including Goffrey. I suppose he has to come too," Keeah agreed. "Eric will ride with me, and two of you can double up."

Neal bit his tongue.


	3. Things that Loom

Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Stuff that Looms

A half an hour later, Eric was clinging to Keeah, Neal was debating shoving Goffrey straight out of the seat behind him, and Julie – of course – was happily riding solo. And rubbing it in with a constant stream of chatter.

"Did you ever notice Droon's kinda small? We always manage to get from place to place in, like, one sentence. A paragraph at most. We never have to stop and set up camp or anything uncomfortable like that, y'know? Even if we're traveling pretty much across the map. Did that ever strike anyone as weird? See, what did I tell you? Two paragraphs, and we're there."

Ahead, rising out of the darkness and mist, was… well… more darkness and mist. Clearly, or not so clearly, they had reached Pludd.

The five companions halted their pilkas (or rather, Keeah, who was the only one who could actually ride, halted the pilka on which she and Eric were mounted. The others just sort of stopped).

Keeah dismounted. Eric, Neal, and Julie slid off. Goffrey overbalanced, with some help from an annoyed Neal, and fell to the muddy ground.

"To get to the Blackest Tower," Keeah began, "we must journey through the Valley of Ech. The slightest noise will alert all of Pludd to our presence, so… be quiet, okay?"

"Wait – why do we have to go to the _blackest _tower?" Neal protested. "Isn't every tower in Pludd black?"

"The Blackest Tower," Keeah responded, carefully enunciating the capitals, "Is also the tallest tower still standing in Pludd. From there, we will be able to locate your spiky-tower-thing. If it exists."

"Oooo, _if _it exists. That hurts," Neal said sarcastically.

Growing more then a little fed up, Julie growled a foul epithet in Neal's direction, causing Eric to wince and the small company to succumb into silence.

The five soon progressed into a narrow gorge – the Valley of Ech. It was dark. It was silent. It was _deadly. _Sharp, black rocks lined it, slashing the soles of Neal's hundred dollar Nikes, much to his chagrin.

Still, with Keeah's warning in their ears, no-one made a sound.

Presently, they drew near to the end of the blackened rift. It looked as if they had made it. Eric grinned. Keeah gave them all a thumbs-up sign.

And then, it happened. A man in a black overcoat stepped suddenly in front of them, cell phone clasped to his ear. Softly, although his words reverberated through the canyon, he said, "Can you hear me now?"

The five companions froze. The echoes of the almost-whispered words ricocheted off the sides of the valley with a rumble like thunder in the distance.

A few seconds passed. No Ninns appeared. The kids cautiously began to breath again.

But the man was not done. He took a deep breath. In a loud and carrying voice, responding to some outside source, he said, "Good!"

Eric, Neal, Julie, and Keeah cringed as the echoes boomed about them. Goffrey fell to the ground, rolled up into a ball, and began whimpering in terror. Neal wondered briefly why he had never thought of doing that on previous adventures.

Then, all five pairs of eyes were drawn to the lip of the Valley of Ech. Pouring in like a page torn out of a coloring book on which a child had scribbled with red marker was a veritable wave of Ninns!

"Shouldn't we, um, run?" Eric requested politely.

"Not until Neal delivers a quippy remark!" Keeah insisted.

"Really? Okay… Can't we ever do anything right?" Neal groaned.

"No. If we didn't get into trouble it would make a terribly boring story," Keeah responded.

"Anyway, it's not your fault. The narrator really has no business inserting people from cell phone commercials," Julie added.

"Yeah, she didn't even get the guy right. The man in the black overcoat is Sprint. The 'can you hear me now' guy is Verizon," Neal muttered.

"You watch way too much TV. Now, run!"

Off they ran.

Suddenly, looming before them, was an enormous black tower. It loomed in a most threatening manner, and the companions found themselves cringing back from its evil looming-ness. But they (as Neal quickly reminded them) had entered scarier places before, so, with many a furtive glance towards the Ninns behind them, they entered.


	4. Beyond the Flying Carpet

Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Beyond the Flying Carpet

"This is the Blackest Tower," Keeah pontificated as they dashed inside.

"I kinda guessed," Neal replied, dashing after her.

Eric said nothing. Julie and Goffrey wisely followed his example.

They came to a set of stairs, which were somewhat hard to see because, like the sleek tower wall they pressed up against, they were black. In fact, no-one would have seen them as they wound their way into darkness had Eric not been wearing his glasses.

"Hey, is that a staircase?" he called suddenly.

"Where?"

"Over there!"

Keeah gained a look of epiphany from some unknown storeroom of looks. "Of course! The Nero Staircase. There's an ancient prophecy about it!" And without asking permission or breaking stride, she began to recite.

"Black as pitch, as dark as night,

Can only be seen with the sharp'ners of sight.

Mount them, chosen two and three.

You will find their end in the double, you see."

"That makes no sense, but let's go, the Ninns are still following us," pragmatic Neal reminded them, irritably rubbing his nose ring.

The quintet dashed up the stairs.

A few minutes later, they weren't dashing.

"How far do these stairs go?" Eric demanded.

"Well, they end eventually, according to the prophecy. But you saw how tall the tower is. It can be guessed they go all the way to the top." Natural laws didn't seem to apply to Keeah, who was hardly even panting.

From far below them came the sounds of Ninns finding the stairs. These were mainly loud 'thump's. Ninns were not the geniuses of Sparr's militia.

"Weird riddle-prophecy-thing, though," Neal commented absently. "Sharpened eyes, double Cs, not a word about food."

"Actually, it's pretty obvious if you think about it," Julie disagreed. " 'Sharp'ners of sight' must be glasses, there are five of us, so we're the 'chosen two and three,' and, um… okay, so it doesn't make _that_ much sense. But what does? Really, we're in Droon."

"Pretty lame poetry, too," Keeah mumbled very, very softly.

They climbed some more. At long, long last, the stairs ended. A dark, threatening door stood in their path. It was spiky. It was black. A pair of stick figures were etched into its surface; one appeared to be wearing a skirt. Keeah reached out to pull it open.

"Wait!" Called Julie, who was in the back of the group, "I think I've figured out the prophecy! It's not a double you see! It's a…"

The door swung open. There, across a long, dark room, was a black toilet.

"WC."

"What?"

"WC. Water closet. Bathroom."

Eric groaned. Neal moaned. Keeah sigh and sagged against the plaid shirt of Eric, who was standing so conveniently next to her. Goffrey whimpered. Julie wrinkled her nose and stepped in.

The WC was perhaps twenty feet long, ten wide, and very black. There was a single immense toilet and an incongruously white bathtub. There were no windows, the only illumination provided by a sconce of torches set into the wall opposite the tub (they hadn't burnt out in the past eight years due to the genius innovation of LED flames). The only door other then the one they had entered through was a square trap door in the ceiling.

"Trust the evil Sparr to have a black bathroom."

Keeah, face grim in the flicker of torchlight, looked around. "I don't know how we're going to get out of this one."

Fortunately, Julie peered at the bathtub. "Why does the tub have green spirals in the corners?"

Keeah grew suddenly excited. "Do you see a label on it? One that reads, 'Pasha original'?"

"But I thought Pasha only made carpets," Eric said, puzzled.

"Long story. To sum up, he dabbled in some other pieces before the carpet was settled on. Come on, get in." Keeah stepped into the tub.

Dubiously, the other followed. "Now, Julie," continued the Queen of Droon, "you have to accidentally discover how to make it go."

Julie had settled into the cramped tub and was attempting to touch up her makeup. "What? Oh. So, does this tub _fly_?"

Nothing happened.

From under Keeah's foot, faint strains of heavy rock could be heard. Neal had turned his iPod on again.

The tub began to rise.

Julie's eyes flashed. She snatched Neal's iPod, flipped it to a rap song, and turned the volume all the way up. The tub rose further. Encouraged, Julie began to sing along.

The tub hovered to the beat. It twirled up to the trap door, which Keeah pushed open. And her mother had said rappers were good for nothing!

They soared over Pludd in the bath, searching for the tower Eric, Julie, and Neal had scryed. It was only a matter of time before the groggles were saddled, but until then, they had a goal.

As the rap song wound down, Julie found a beat without lyrics, put it in a loop, and started to improvise. This was even worse then standard rap, and Eric found himself leaning over the edge of the bathtub, zoning.

There was a burning flash of light behind his eyes. Julie's loud, arrhythmic song ("We're going to Droon, we're goin' real soon…") faded into blessed oblivion.

He was falling. He fell, and he fell, and he fell. He tried to scream, but his jaw wouldn't open.

He landed on something soft, or possibly just stopped falling. In front of him, darkness gathered into a menacing figure. Tall, imposing, with a sinister expression, a long, black cloak, and purple fish fins behind his ears, it was their arch-nemesis, Lord Sparr. Some day, they might even find out what he's lord of.

Sparr laughed evilly. "At last. My moment of triumph is at hand – and this time, no pesky Upper World children can stop me!" The evil laugh continued. Then, gesturing extravagantly, Sparr began to chant a spell.

Eric couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like the typical three-syllable string. He was sure it was evil and demonic. He struggled to stand before it was too late.

Then…

Out of thin air…

Sparr pulled…

A microphone!

And not just any microphone. A dark, spiky, hideous microphone. He lifted it, pressed a button, and then…

Sparr sang karaoke.

Eric died.


	5. The Mapmakers of Imlost

Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The Mapmakers of Imlost

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ("Narrator," Keeah broke in, "Isn't that overkill? Just a little bit?") hhhhhh!" Eric screamed. The vision vanished. He was still sitting in the bathtub, alive – for the moment.

Keeah, head ringing from Eric's outburst, leaned over him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine – I think. But I had a vision. Sparr… I figured out what we saw in the scrying pool. It wasn't a tower, or an Austin-Powers-type-joke-set-up. It was a microphone! It was all black and spiky and, and Sparr took it and sang…" He took a shuddering breath, unable to go on.

Keeah's eyes widened in terror. "That! Did the microphone say anything on the bottom?"

Eric thought. "Yes," he answered finally, "there was something. It said… 'Made in Grothor ™'."

Keeah's eyes went even wider. Eric found himself thinking how pretty and green they were. "Then you have seen the Evil Black Spiky Microphone of Grothor!" She exclaimed.

"Wha?" Eric, Julie, and Neal said in harmony. Goffrey gulped.

"The Kingdom of Grothor was the center of Droon's music industry before the Dark Ages. Unfortunately, they were bought out by Koh's evil empire of Goll and were set to making wireless equipment and evil magical items. The very worst was the Black Spiky Microphone. It is a torture instrument capable of twisting the best sung songs into deadly karaoke."

"We have to stop him!" Julie exclaimed.

"How did I know you would say that?" Neal groaned.

"Well, what did you expect? I'm sure you don't want Droon taken over by an evil guy singing karaoke."

"Our world already has been. We don't seem to notice."

"Neal, pop stars do _not _sing karaoke."

"Who said anything about pop stars? I was talking about the vice pr-"

"Julie! Less talk, more rap," Eric warned as the bathtub wobbled dangerously.

"Right! Uh, it'll be sweet/when we defeat, the evil guys/and thwart their tries, to take control/with rock-and-roll, powers are cool/friendship is better/always our moral/to the letter…" It was awful to listen to, but the Pasha tub seemed to like it.

Meanwhile, Keeah had been deep in thought. Now she drew a deep breath and spoke. "To defeat Sparr, our only chance is to get to the microphone before he does. We can only hope Eric's vision hasn't yet come to pass. Also, we may need some help."

"Grothor is easy, if we know where it is. We are in a flying bathtub. And help always shows up when we need it. Things are looking good," Julie stated, pausing for breath, then resuming her song.

"But we _don't _know where Grothor is," Keeah protested. "Therefore, we will first have to visit a place in Droon's farthest corner, the Imlost Peaks, Mountain of the Mapmakers. Julie, turn east. No, the other east."

After some minor chords and facet twisting, the bathtub was turned in the right direction.

A sentence passed.

Straight ahead, a large, snowy peak loomed. Neal wondered why everything in Droon spent so much time looming. Why couldn't it bake cookies instead? Which reminded him – he was hungry. Mmm, cookies…

Neal didn't realize he had spoken aloud until Julie turned to him with one pink eyebrow raised. "How can you be thinking of cookies at a time like this?"

"Because I'm _hungry,_" he moaned, but Julie had already gone back to her song. "Doesn't anyone care a guy is about to starve to death here?"

"Why, Neal? Why did the author have to make the comic relief a bottomless pit?" Eric complained. Julie motioned him into silence so she could land the tub.

"Now we turn/so much to learn, down a bit – oh…" A censored curse completed the rhyme as Julie realized the seemingly level ground they were coming in to land on was actually a slanted sheet of ice!

The tub began slipping. It slid along the ice like a drunken moose. It slithered and skidded down the sheet, and the teens within clung to the sides or, in the case of Eric and Keeah, each other.

Fortunately, they were not sliding away from the mountain, but towards it. The ice was sloping down in the direction of a tumble of rocks decorating the mountainside, and as of now, so was the tub.

Eric moaned.

Neal whimpered.

Keeah was grimly silent.

Goffrey had gone beyond terror and was also silent.

Julie lifted her hands into the air and let out the whoop of a kid on a roller coaster.

There was a crash as the bathtub's bottom met a bit of rock protruding from the ice sheet and screeched to a halt. Five frightened figures fell from it, half-heartedly reminding the narrator alliteration is for poems, not stories. Then they began the process of standing unsteadily and assuring themselves nothing was broken.

Keeah was the first to see the hole in the mountainside. It was an irregular hole, concealed among the fallen rocks, and might merely have been a dead-end gap, but upon further investigation it proved to be the mouth of a tunnel. A deep, dark tunnel. What other kind is there?

Eric spotted it a moment later. "That looks like a disaster waiting to happen," he muttered.

"That looks like the entrance to the mapmaker's caves of Imlost!" Keeah declared, in much louder tones.

"We're going in there?" demanded Neal incredulously, although by now he ought to know better. Keeah was already stepping over rocks. Miraculously, she didn't slip, fall, or at all damage the hems of her long, trailing blue robes. In fact, her hair (Eric noticed) was still perfectly set and her crown wasn't the least bit skewed.

Julie, Neal, and Eric dubiously followed, picking their way over the rocky pinnacles. Goffrey wisely decided to return to the tub and keep watch instead, but the others walked down the aforementioned long and depressingly dark tunnel.

Presently this tunnel became a corridor, and after a bit more time this corridor ended, loosing the four teens into a large room full of shelves and lit by a crackling fireplace. The shelves, as shelves are wont to do, contained books.

Neal looked around. "NO! Not a library! They'll get me, she'll, she'll… the Librarian! She's co-"

Julie grabbed him and used the thick silver chain he wore around his neck to gag him. "Shuddup. What librarian?"

Neal shuddered. "Mrflgrf."

Julie took the chain out of his mouth.

"Ms. Foeldier," said Neal with a shudder.

He remembered it well, that awful day two years ago. It had been a day of storms and portents. He had come to the library to return some books; something sappy his mom was reading and a pulp sci-fi novel with lots of explosions he had given up on halfway through, nothing special. He had walked up to the checkout counter and put them down, all cool and suave – "Returning," he had said. The librarian, a normal looking lady with squinted-up eyes, took them from him.

_Beep._ That was his mom's book, returned. But the second beep never came. Neal looked up from the chipping black paint on his fingernails. The librarian was holding the sci-fi novel open to page fifty-six, where Neal had folded down a page corner to mark his place. An expression of rage contorted her features. She looked up as if in slow motion, and Neal realized in growing horror that her eyes had _turned red_. One large, wrinkled finger rose to point directly at him in accusation. "_Dog eeaarrss!" _ She roared, rising heavily, the desk tilting forward as she lunged towards Neal to exact some dreadful retribution….

He had run from the library and never returned.

Until now.

"Foeldier?" Julie asked. "Paige Foeldier, that nice old lady?"

Neal gave a tiny nod. The memories had haunted him ever since. Even now, just from being in a library, he swore he could hear the ominous clicking of her high-heeled shoes…

_Click-click. Click-click._

Wait, that wasn't his imagination. Neil cowered, trying to hide behind Julie. From around the corner of one of the bookshelves popped-

A short man with a long beard and enormous, buglike binoculars stuck to his glasses.

Neal nearly suffered cardiac arrest. Fortunately, this being a children's book, he fainted instead.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Furzyfew, Head Mapmaker of Imlost. Can I help you?" The man's voice was absurdly squeaky, but that wasn't too uncommon in Droon. He adjusted the binocular-like devices he wore. "What seems to be the problem with your companion?"

"He's Neal," Eric said sardonically.

"Nervous reaction," Julie said, slightly louder and right on top of him, so his words were drowned out.

But loudest of all was Keeah, so in the end neither Eric nor Julie were heard above her. "He'll be fine, but we do require assistance. Can you find us a map written about five and a half centuries ago?"

"Written?" Squeaked the man through his fluffy beard. "Maps are not _written._ Who are you, to insult the high art of…"

Keeah held up her hand. "I am Keeah, Queen of Droon. I beg your pardon for incorrect wording, but this is of utmost importance. We need a map that will reveal the location of the ancient city of Grothor."

"Grothor? Grothor, you say?"

"You know of it?"

"No."

Keeah sigh, defeated.

"But… no."

"But what?"

"But," squeaked the mapmaker, "I know of some old maps not far from here that might be just what you're looking for. First, the matter of the fee."

"The what?" Asked Keeah.

"Fee! You didn't think we could give you the map for nothing, did you?"

"But I'm Queen of Droon?"

"Hmm… perhaps some kind of endorsement?" Suggested Mr. Furzeyfew.

"I thought everyone except the bad guys were supposed to be friendly and helpful in Droon," Eric sighed.

Julie nodded in dismal agreement. "They never asked for fees when Tony Abbot was narrator."


	6. A Plot Twist

Chapter 6

Author's note: "I'm Still here in the Bath Tub" was inspired by a children's book of the same name. Hysterical book which thoroughly deserves credit.

Taidine

**Chapter 6**

A Plot Twist

Neal slowly swam to the surface of a dream involving jumping on the top of a giant jelly donut as if it were a trampoline. Some things never change; his first waking thought was, _Waste of a good jelly donut…_

"All right," the piercing voice of Mr. Furzeyfew was saying. "Throw in a spot on a Jaffa City billboard and we have a deal. You do understand that the Mapmakers of Imlost are not responsible for any quests, captures, or side plots as a result of cartographical inaccuracies or…"

"We get it," Keeah interrupted. "Now, we need a map over five hundred years old. Can you do that, or do I have to find it myself?"

Mr. Furzeyfew cast his precious books a frightened look. "Right this way," he squeaked, leading the way along the rows of dusty bookshelves.

Keeah, Julie, and Eric trooped after him. Neal trailed behind, looking furtively about for Ms. Foeldier or, preferably, food. Because everyone knew people left food in libraries. Like… lunches and things. Right? Goffrey, if we recall, was still outside, sitting in the bathtub and singing (to the tune of 'Take me out to the Ballgame'):

"I'm still here in the bath – tub.

I wish it would go fly.

Fly all the way to my home, you know,

On no more adventures do I want to go…"

Unfortunately, this did not, under the loosest definition and strangest circumstances, qualify as rap, and the tub refused to budge.

Anyway, the four in the library followed Mr. Furzeyfew, who led them around to the dustiest part of the library. Neal promptly began to cough, and was soon followed by Julie and Eric. Keeah, of course, had no need of the laws of the natural world and refused to so much as sniffle.

"Over here," said Mr. Furzeyfew, sounding as if he was on helium. He bustled up to the top shelf using a conveniently placed ladder and brought down a large, dusty scroll. "This is a map written before the rise of the Empire of Goll. It's one of the oldest pieces in our collection, and-"

He was cut off by Keeah's, "Oh my!" Because Keeah, of course, would never actually curse.

"What is it, Keeah?" Eric.

"A plot twist that would never have occurred if Tony Abbot was narrating. Grothor is almost directly on top of Jaffa City! Come on, we have to go now! I left a committee ruling, they won't be able to defend themselves if Sparr attacks!" She sounded truly distraught. "Hurrry!"

She grabbed Eric who grabbed Julie who grabbed Neal who grabbed air, muttering indistinctly about jelly donuts, and they raced for the exit.


	7. Relna Returns

Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Relna Returns

The human chain charged out the door, ignoring the ice, and piled into the tub. "I'm Still Here in the Bathtub" was cut off with a muffled squeak as Goffrey was buried under infinitely more important characters. "Neal! I need your iPod, quick!" shouted Julie.

"But-" Ignoring Neal's weak protests, she grabbed the device, cranked the volume up to 'audible, if barely,' and began to sing. The tub took off.

"Phew. I was afraid the narrator would come up with a reason for the tub to not work and we would have to-" Julie began.

"Don't give her any ideas!" Eric, Neal and Keeah chorused.

Julie shivered, apprehensive at the very thought, and redoubled her efforts at rap. Which meant it was twice as horrible, leaving Eric wishing he could have another prophetic vision. At least it would stop the noise.

No vision was forthcoming. Fortunately, due to the time/distance inversion of Drooinian air travel, no sooner did the sentence end then they were in the air above Jaffa City.

--

Relna, ex-Queen of Droon, is a wizard. The former narrator often forgot this simple fact because Keeah didn't have as much pressure on her to save the world of her mother could step in with her own magic at any time. But the current narrator is not so callous and forgetful and, more to the point, seems to have made the characters less intelligent then they have been in prior books, so they need all the help they can get.

Currently, Relna was on an expedition to the Bangledorn Forest to protest the cutting of vines as building material, because they were the natural habitat of the rare Bangledorn Rodent (_Rodentus bangledorn)_ that were the main prey of the endangered White Falcon (_Falco baldus)_. It was a half an hour before her final speech at the week-long convention on Bangledorn ecology when she was contacted via magic mirror by a very flustered Galen Even Longer Beard.

"Keeah and those three terrible influences from the Upper World just dashed off on another madcap adventure and told me to start Droon's first democratic government!" the old wizard exclaimed.

Relna was shocked. "But… Droon is an autocratic society ruled by an elite class of magic-user aristocrats! If we let the people vote, who knows what might happen? Education for the masses, causing them to lose their charming, quaint and folkloric accents? Equal rights to wizarding powers? It will be a disaster!"

"I don't know what to do about it," Galen blustered, "I need your help!"

"But… the vines… the Bangledorn Rodents…"

"The future of Droon!" Galen exclaimed.

"Oh, all right," Relna huffed.

Galen reflected for a long moment. "There was something else I wanted to tell you. But I can't seem to remember. Nums. Numbers? Started with an 'n.'"

Relna stared.

"Nuns! No, that doesn't make sense. Nips, nims…"

There was a flash of red; an enormous Ninn appeared abruptly behind Galen, raised its clenched fists, and knocked the old wizard senseless.

Ex-Queen Relna gasped. This sort of thing simply didn't happen in children's books! She had to do something.

Waving her hands in a complex pattern and muttering a few arcane words, she summoned a flash of uncanny blue light and vanished from the forest of Bangledorn. Her daughter and those friends of hers had messed up again, leaving it to her to save the day.

Teenagers.

Relna's task was to gather together the great heroes of Droon. In practically no time at all – thanks to that handy Drooinian time-distance inversion! – they were assembled just outside the walls of Jaffa City, under the cover of a very conveniently placed stand of trees. Using her powers, Relna allowed them to covertly observe the Ninns as they marched through the city, sacking the houses on general principle. All extraneous civilian-types had mysteriously vanished.

"It may be difficult to retake the city," she announced to her makeshift army. "We have a hundred highly trained warriors who know the city's weak spots, defenses, and secrets. We are up against half as many clumsy, stupid red creatures with crude weapons and little organization. However, we must not despair. We…"

She was cut off by a shout. "What's that?"

Her blue eyes flew along the accompanying finger, alighting on the small, wobbly dot it was pointed towards. It was growing steadily nearer, resolving into a bathtub – _Pasha Original_, she thought – with four eagerly waving and one rather dazed looking figures sitting inside.

"It's the four teenagers. We're saved!"

The bathtub landed promptly. Keeah jumped out and ran to her mother. "Mother! TheNinnsareinthecitylookingfortheEvilBlackSpikeyMicrophoneofGrothorandGrothoriswhereJaffacityisandiftheygetitthey'lltakeovertheworld!"

Relna shook her head. "Yes, dear, but we already know that."

"How? It took us six chapters to find out?"

As Relna groped for an explanation, Neal, Eric and Julie were plotting. "If this works," Neal finished, "we can retake the city with no bloodshed and keep the rating of this K+."

Keeah gave up on her mother and returned to her friends. "Hey, want to see this new spell I learned to amplify sound?"

"What does that have to do with… oh, never mind. Neal has a plan to retake the city," said Julie.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Asked Keeah.

"I said Neal has a plan to-"

"_Neal_ has a _plan._ Isn't that and oxymoron or something?"

"Who are you calling an oxymoron?" Neal shouted belligerently from a few feet away.

Eric felt at this time they needed a voice of reason. "It's a & plan! Get the &# in the #& tub!" He shouted.

The kids piled in. Goffrey found himself once more on the bottom. If he had ever seen _Star Trek_, he would have been feeling, right now, like the guys in the red suits who inevitably get killed by the end of the episode and wondering if this show was coming to a climax that would result in him ending his life in a noble sacrifice any time soon. Fortunately, he had never seen _Star Trek._

Julie began to rap. Neal took out his iPod. "Now," he said, "I should have… ah-ha! Yes, this will make the Ninns abandon the city."

"What?" Asked Keeah and Eric together.

Neal grinned, rubbed his nose ring, and uttered the two words that struck fear into the hearts of all sentient beings with the ability to interpret vibrations in the air into meaningful tonal values (i.e. 'hear') – "Britney Spears."

Eric gasped in horror. "You downloaded B…B…Br…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. "_That _onto your iPod?"

Neal looked embarrassed. "It was the free single of the week."

The others stopped pressing.

The tub was now wobbling through the air over the city, where red figures wandered through the streets. Julie brought them lower. "Okay. Go!"

Neal cranked up the volume. Faintly, over the rush of wind, came "Oops, I did it again…"

Down below, Ninns looked up from their obligatory rounds of sacking, looting, and senseless brutality. But instead of fleeing in terror, they began pointing, grunting, and shouting at each other in either Ninn or Kicked-in-the-stomach-ish.

"They can't hear it!" Eric gasped.

Keeah, unperturbed, merely pouted prettily at him. "Well, if you had let me show you that new spell earlier…"

"What spell?"

"The spell for amplifying sound I learned a few days ago."

"Of course!" exclaimed Eric, "You never start demonstrating spells unless it's a major plot device!"

"Well? Cast it!" Neal shouted. The Ninns were already rushing for their projectile weapons.

"Right. Ooo-eee-aaaa…"

"You don't have time to brush your teeth now, Keeah!"

"That's the spell, you dolt."

There was a flash of blue light, because blue is, quite simply, an awesome color. Or perhaps there is some mechanical reason for the magic to work that way, like nitrogen reflecting a blue wavelength to create the color of the sky. Anyway, it was blue. And it flashed. And, suddenly, from the iPod, poured a mind-numbing wave of terrifyingly bad music.

"_Oops, I did it a-"_

Eric, Neal, Julie, Keeah, and Goffrey covered their ears in horror, and the Ninns below gave them one last look before racing away in a crimson stampede, frantic to escape the terrible, terrible sound. "Mrg argh shgr mrf!" they grunted in a difficult-to-pronounce language that was almost entirely free of vowels (the theory runs that vowels, being more sensitive then consonants, actually abandoned the Ninn language when it was created some years ago in a mass protest).

"They said, 'Run! Sparr's fortress is on the other side of that hedge!'" Keeah translated.

"It is?"

"Always has been."


	8. In Regard to Drooinian Politics

Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

In Regard to Drooinian Government

Triumphant, the warriors of the city flooded in and re-took it. Jaffa city was once again in the hands of its rightful ruler, Queen Keeah.

Of course, any moment now the Queen would be racing off for what critics are calling a 'nonstop thrill ride… comedic adventure at its fullest.' (The _Jaffa Herald_) Who the rightful second-in-command was hung in a state of some doubt.

"I will, of course, rule in Keeah's stead," Relna told the people of the city, who had mysteriously reappeared.

"You absolutely will not!" protested a sharp voiced, sharp faced woman with brown hair and the Drooinian equivalent of a business suit, i.e. stylish navy robe. "I am the duly elected leader of the DDC (Drooinian Democratic Council), and we are in charge if the Queen is not." Her ability to enunciate parentheses was truly remarkable.

"Your committee is a fraudulent creation with no power base. You couldn't rule a fist of Ninns!" Relna shot back.

"We weren't elected by Ninns. We were elected by the people, for the people, and we wield the power of said people."

"We don't really have time for politics," Keeah interrupted airily. "You both know Droon doesn't really need ruling. Everyone is either good or evil, the good guys get along, and we deal with the bad ones. This isn't exactly America. Now, if you'll excuse me, I still need to find that Evil Spiky Black Microphone."

At this point, Eric, Neal, and Julie wandered back into the conversation. Neal was carrying a celebratory cake. "Hey, ya know how if we take something out of Droon to our world, something from our world appears here? Well, what if we eat something and leave?"

Keeah rolled her eyes. "That plot device was simply to drive our first adventure. After that it became largely extraneous, only to be brought out if the author was seriously running low on ideas. Besides, you three are special. Don't let it worry you. Finish that cake and let's go – I sense even with his Ninns banished, Sparr plots to gain the Microphone."

"We always have to find the strangest things, too," Julie commented as Keeah lead the three towards the city gates. "I mean, a soccer ball? A gem in a glove? It just doesn't seem… serious."

Neal muttered something opprobrious about children's books.

"Nonsense," said Keeah, "It is merely the way the magic manifests. Now, I sense Sparr lurks beyond the gates."

Neal muttered something that might have been, "Yes, my spider senses are tingling as well."

"Let us go out to meet him," Keeah finished.

This finally prompted an intelligible response from Neal, after he chewed and swallowed the last of his cake. "No, I've got a better idea. Lets lock and bar the gates, then go get pizza."

"But, Neal," Julie argued, "We have to defeat Sparr so the magical rainbow staircase-a-mabob will appear."

"I thought it just appeared at random! When did us finishing our mission become staircase criteria?"

Eric counted on his fingers. "About… book seven, I think? I'll have to check when we get back."

Neal frowned. "That was, uh, what's the thing where you don't want an answer?"

"Was that a rhetorical question?"

Julie snapped her fingers. "Come on, you two, let's-"

"Tra-la-laa!" Neal shouted.

"Wrong book," Eric growled.

"-just get this over with."


	9. The Remarkably Brief Climax

**A/N: **I should probably also mention I do not own and indeed have nothing to do with Britney Spears' music. Ditto _American Idol. _Although as far as I know 'Jason' is fictional.

**Chapter 9**

The Remarkably Brief Climax

The bars of the gate easily swung open, and the gates themselves hardly gave a whimper as they were pushed outward by Keeah's hands. Eric wondered if this was because she was Queen of Droon and therefore special or if the gates were merely well-maintained. He then realized he didn't actually care and promptly forgot about it.

They tramped outside in a mismatched parade. Keeah lead the way with her golden head high. Eric followed, hands in his pockets, checkered shirt and striped tie launching a joint attack on aesthetics. Then came Julie, pink hair and all, followed by Neal, the sulky, black-clad, self-proclaimed funny-guy who had been rather lax in his comic relief. Too late now. This was the Final Showdown. Soon it would all be over.

Exiting the gates, they turned left and followed the walls around the city. Worried citizens smiled, cheered, and demonstrated their complete confidence in the heroes by shutting and barring the gates behind them as soon as Neal was through. Eric tried to remember if Jaffa City had always had a wall. He had let Sparr in through a gate once, hadn't he? Therefore there must have been a wall to put it in…

His train of thought was brutally interrupted because he had spotted, directly ahead, a spare figure hunched over the ground as if digging. It was swathed in a black cape, tall and sinister. "Sparr," Eric breathed.

Even as they watched, the evil apparition straightened, pulling something loose from the dirt. It was black. It was spiky. On the bottom was the legend, 'Made in Grothor™ '

"Of course!" Keeah exclaimed, "The city of Grothor was far larger then Jaffa City! Some of its manufacturing plants would be _outside_."

"Correct!" The dark figure thundered, "Brilliant, as usual, Princess. But once again, too late. Because now I have the microphone, and now you and the rest of your world will suffer at the hands of my Karaoke of _Doom!_"

He laughed evilly.

"Not so fast!" Shouted Neal, brandishing his iPod. "Two can wield the deadly weapon of Bad Music!" He turned up the volume, and the overproduced, magically amplified voice of Britney Spears sang out to the world of her latest relationship problems.

Sparr, unfazed, lifted the Microphone and began to sing along.

"Ahh!"

"Ahh!"

"Ahh!"

Shouted Eric, Neal, and Julie. "Brilliant, Neal," Keeah agreed. Then, swiftly, she pulled two handfuls of somethings out of her pockets and clamped them to her own ears, then those of everyone else in the group.

Blessed silence ensued. Earplugs!

With everyone temporarily safe, Keeah waved at the other three – by way of explanation – a handful of the small wax things she had brought from Jaffa City.

The sinister figure with the microphone was not pleased. He rocked, warbled, shouted, and cranked the volume, but whatever noise he was producing merely beat against Keeah's magically reinforced earplugs, and the four teens were safe from harm.

Keeah raised her hands, fanned out her fingers. KKK-BLAM!

No one actually heard the sound effects, but they're so much fun to write. The explosion was the result of a bolt of blue light she launched from her fingertips at Sparr, but which, deflected by the distorting waves of mind-numbing karaoke, merely hit the ground at his feet. Keeah tried again, but this second attempt was defeated when the First Rule of a Nonending Series came into play (the villain must remain alive so the good guys can continue to foil his plans but fail to kill him). Once again, the blue bolt went way off the mark. However, the powerful burst of blue fire did have the effect of igniting the hem of Sparr's infamous black cloak.

With a crackle, flames rose, consuming the black fabric. Sparr dropped the microphone, tore off the cloak, and preformed the equally infamous Stop, Drop and Roll Maneuver.

That was when Eric noticed a conspicuous lack of fish fins, purple or otherwise.

"Wait a minute! That's not Sparr!" Eric exclaimed.

No one could hear him.

Julie darted forward, snatching the neglected microphone and stowing it safely in the front pocket of Neal's hoodie. Everyone pulled out their earplugs.

"Wait a minute! That's not Sparr!" Eric exclaimed.

"No," said Neal, "It's Jason from _American Idol."_

Julie winced. "You watch _American Idol_? Geeze, you're probably _immune_ to the Evil Black Spiky Microphone of Grothor."

Neal stuck out his tongue, and instantly regretted such an immature action. Very uncharacteristic, but he was in shock.

Jason from _American Idol_, having put out the fire, stood up and abruptly realized he no longer had the Microphone. He didn't quite manage to make his eyes flash. "You! How did I know? I read all the books, I should have expected trying to take over Droon would be a failure. But I thought… Well, after they insulted me on that show… maybe I could put my awful singing to good use." He broke down into a sobbing heap.

Julie sneered. "What should we do with him?"

"I'll deal with him," announced Keeah airily, and summoned the guards. Somehow. Possibly from thin air. Who knows? She is the Queen. _Anyway…_

The guards grabbed the false Sparr by his shoulders and dragged him off to the dungeons, or rather, hastily converted storeroom with padlocks (long story, involving the DDC). "And I would have gotten away with it too!" He quoted loudly back at the teens, "If it hadn't been for you meddling kids! And your dumb soccer ball!"

"We lost the soccer ball!" Neal shouted back, "Didn't you read the first chapter?"

Eric walked over to Keeah. "I just wanted to say – thank you. You saved us all with those earplugs."

"Oh, Eric, you know you'd do the same for me."

They stared deep into each other's eyes. Eric leaned closer, feeling as though he might drown in the green pools of…

Julie grabbed Eric, Neal grabbed Keeah, and the pair were summarily wrenched apart. "This will not end in a cliché!" Julie declared.

Then, spilling from the sky, the rainbow staircase fell in a graceful arch; cheesy, cartoony, faintly queer, but welcomed as ever. Eric scowled at Neal and began to walk up it; the other two followed.

About half way up, the three paused. "Wait – we're forgetting something!" Julie declared.

"Erm… there's no place like home?" Eric tried.

"I'm hungry?" Neal attempted hopefully.

"Beam me up, Scotty?" Eric hazarded.

"No!" Julie sighed in exasperation. "_Our moral._"

"Oh! Er, it's great to come to Droon…"

"We have spectacularly awesome adventures…"

"But the best thing about it is that we get to make wonderful new friends," Julie finished, looking slightly disgusted. "Okay, we can go now."

And so they went.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Epilogue**

As they sat around in Eric's kitchen after their adventure, Neal making sandwiches and Julie applying makeup, Eric decided it was time to clear up a few things.

"I think it's time we clear up a few things," he said. "First, what was the deal with Goffrey?"

A strange girl walked into the kitchen and helped herself to a sandwich. "Well, you know how there are usually characters in Droon that appear useless at first but ultimately help save the day? Well, I thought it would be amusing to have one who appeared useless and actually turned out to be useless. He had another purpose as well, but I didn't have a chance to work that in," she said, then took a bite of the sandwich. "Say, Neal, these are pretty good."

Julie was the first to recover. "Hey! That's the narrator!" she exclaimed.

"Er, yes," the narrator replied, and fled before the characters could lynch-mob her.

"Well, that was weird."

"Mhmph," Neal agreed, making a new sandwich to replace the one that had been stolen.

"The other thing I wanted to clear up was…" Eric continued, "Well. If Jason is now in Droon, and it was him after the microphone all along, where's Sparr?"

"Well, Sparr must have masterminded the whole thing," said Julie, "Seeing as the Ninns were involved and all."

"He could be here," said Neal, bringing the plate of sandwiches over to the table. He sounded startlingly casual. "Yeah, he's probably here in the Upper World."

"But you know what that means, don't you?" Julie exclaimed, aghast. "There's going to be…"

All three exchanged glances of dread and chorused, in tones of identical horror…

"A sequel!"

– Fin –


End file.
